A poem for the royal baby, Wossername

I read that the Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy won’t write a poem for the new royal baby, so that creates a wonderful vacuum for the rest of us to fill. I’ve always enjoyed writing silly rhymes. I don’t like the monarchy, but I’m no Poet Laureate either, so they cancel and make it appropriate for me to write and get back in fun a little of what I have to shell out in taxes to support them.

In fairness, as with any other new baby, I wish them all well. The new princess didn’t choose to be royal any more than you or I. This ‘poem’ reflects on the outdated principle of the monarchy rather than the personal.

 

An ode to Princess Wossername

Two point seven new babies per second,

The world produces, so it’s reckoned

They may be born to rich or poor

Whiter, blacker, browner, bluer

 

Now one has come to Wills and Kate

Her whole life paid for by the state

A posher form of welfare sure

A form of exploitation pure

 

The kings and queens of ages old

Got rich by winning battles bold

They had to risk the chop or Tower

To get their bloodied hands on power

 

Now silver spoon and golden chalice

Fancy gown and finest palace

Are paid for out of hard-won tax

Squeezed from subjects to the max

 

So what sets this new girl apart

From cleaner, doctor, maid or tart?

What justifies her life of ease

Her right to wealth instead of fleas?

 

I do not know the answer there

It seems to me a bit unfair

That she’ll be given so much more

Than babies born through other doors

 

It’s time to stop this royal scam

While she’s confined within her pram

To treat like any other wain

This little Princess Wossername

 

possibly helpful note: wain is scottish slang for ‘child’

 

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